All I do is dig up pain.
I am heavy.
Please forget me.
I live in my head,
stay in bed,
pretend.
No, I do not understand.
This is my first time living with this.
Everyone seems to know
which road to take.
Can I borrow your map?
I am still standing at your sign—
waiting, wishing
someone would open a door
and tell me
what comes next.
Please tell me
what comes next.
Tell me the water is safe.
Tell me I will not disappear
if I jump in.
Until that day comes,
I keep staring at the door handle,
wondering
if it was unlocked
the whole time.
2d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 9:03 PM UTC
don’t know where you went
but I still talk like you’re listening
Like somewhere above me
there’s a version of you
just out of reach
but still close enough to feel
I call out in the quiet sometimes
like silence might answer back
if I say your name right
I don’t need everything back
I just need a moment—
one breath!!
Where it feels like you’re here again.
Come back down to earth for a second
Let me see you
Let me know I’m not just talking to the sky
I miss you in ways I can’t explain out loud
In ways that don’t really leave
And I know you may not come back…
I just needed to say it anyway
May 14
May 14, 2026 at 12:20 AM UTC
Stop lying to yourself.
You don’t work better under pressure
You’re just used to surviving in a panic
You do care
You just learned to act numb about it
over the years
so disappointment hurts less
You don’t need more time
You’re scared the version of yourself
that finally tries for real
might still fail
And maybe the hardest truth is this
healing doesn’t happen
when you finally feel motivated
It happens when you become exhausted
of becoming someone
your soul no longer recognizes.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 11:46 PM UTC
In every letter I wrote
in every morning
I still made it through
in every star
I stared at for too long
I loved you there
I meant all of it
No exaggeration
No perfect words
to fill the quiet air
Whatever I have left in me
has been given to you
And I don’t think time
is enough for this
Not even close...
If eternity is real
it still wouldn’t be long enough
to finish what I feel
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 11:44 PM UTC
I never met God
with a crown
or sitting on a throne.
I met God
in the middle of the street
in the rain
at 3AM
begging for help
with shaking hands.
I met God
at the top of a four-story building
looking down
thinking maybe
some people were never meant
to be saved.
I met God
sleeping alone in a room
year after year
while my mind
slowly turned against me.
I met God
while a brown book
sat untouched on a shelf
collecting dust
while I collected pain.
I met God
through addiction.
Through depression.
Through nights so dark
I stopped recognizing myself
in the mirror.
I met God
when everybody else left
and all I had
were my thoughts
echoing back at me.
I met God
when I finally broke down enough
to admit
I could not carry
this life alone anymore.
Nobody told me
faith would look like this.
I thought God would feel
like a church choir
or sunlight through stained glass.
Instead
He felt like surviving
another night
I thought would destroy me.
And somehow
still waking up
the next morning.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 11:37 PM UTC
Words meet me right where I am.
Not where I pretend to be.
Not where I wish I was.
But here,
in the quiet mess of now.
Some days they come gentle,
like water finding cracks in stone.
Other days they come heavy,
like truth
I can’t outrun.
And I don’t need them
to be perfect.
I just need them to be honest,
and to sit with me
without asking me to change
before the ink dries.
Because even when I don’t have answers,
even when I don’t feel whole,
the words still come.
And somehow
they understand me
better than I understand myself.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 11:31 PM UTC
God is a poet.
We wouldn’t understand sunlight without rain.
Every season, every chapter is written with purpose.
God is a mirror.
Everything we are is reflected back in time.
God is a mirror.
God is a poet.
And we are the page where both are written.
God is a mirror.
God is a poet.
God is in the quiet details we overlook.
Nothing is random, even what breaks us.
Pain is often a language we don’t understand yet.
Seasons are lessons dressed as time.
Some endings are just beginnings in disguise.
What we lose teaches us what we were holding onto.
Not everything that hurts is meant to destroy you.
Some things return only after you change.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 9:56 PM UTC
Don’t go into a grocery store hungry,
they say.
Because everything starts
to look like what you need.
The shelves shine brighter,
the cravings speak louder,
and you leave with things
that were never on the list.
So don’t go looking for love
when you are lonely.
Loneliness can make
attention feel like affection,
can make red flags
look soft in dim light,
can make empty hands
seem holy.
You will reach for people
who were never meant
to feed you.
And call it fate
because it arrived
when you were starving.
Better to learn
how to nourish yourself first.
So when love comes,
you choose with peace—
not hunger.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 9:55 PM UTC
you don’t notice at first.
It settles into everything—
hands, rooms, days.
You try to clean it.
Try to make it quiet.
But something always stirs it back up.
A sound.
A place.
A memory you didn’t ask for.
And there it is again—
softer now,
but still there.
I’ve learned it doesn’t leave.
It just changes how it moves through me.
Some days it hurts.
Some days it just passes through.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 9:47 PM UTC
I tried to run away.
I tried to go back
to what destroyed me.
I wanted to suffer.
My pain felt like comfort,
so I would swallow my guilt
like a bottle of *****
I would crush powder
over picture frames
of old friends
that will never see 31.
But God replied,
“I’m not done with you.”
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 12:16 AM UTC